The stars shimmered against the dark sky and the soft wind blew the tufts of clouds slowly through the air. The crescent moon shone brighter than ever on this night. Owls could be heard hooting and wolves could be heard howling from the Forbidden Forest. Flowers in the garden next to Hagrid's hut were blossoming beautifully and the dew on each petal was glowing in the moonlight. This was the reason Harry loved the Astronomy Tower so much. It held a sense of peace and the sight was something that took his breath away.

Harry often came here when he needed time to think or when he just had far too much on his mind. With the dagger he had received from Remus on his sixteenth birthday in his robe pocket, he headed up to his sanctuary of solitude. Harry tightly gripped his illuminated wand in his hand and the Marauder's Map in the other, keeping an eye out for faculty members and prefects. His vision was blurred by the tears forming in his eyes. He had frequently been having nightmares and this was one that he just could not shake off.

This nightmare started like the others, it was dark and cramped in whatever room he was locked in. He was cold, scared, and alone in the place he knew now to be what used to be his bedroom of ten years, the cupboard under the stairs. His uncle had just arrived home drunk and his footsteps could be heard approaching the small cupboard. The booming steps halted and the door opened, the light from the bright living room blinding Harry momentarily. Vernon yanked a handful of the small boy's locks and pulled him out into the hall, shoving him against the pristine white wall. Just like in every other nightmare he had encountered, his uncle began to punch him in the face with his giant fists. Harry fell to the floor with a thud and soon his uncle began to kick him repeatedly in the ribs. Harry felt a blinding pain after a loud crack and knew that one of his ribs had been broken. His head was soon being bashed against the wall and he could hear the roaring voice of Uncle Vernon shouting at him.

"You worthless, good-for-nothing, freak!" Harry could smell the whiskey on his breath. "My family takes you in out of the goodness of our hearts and this is what we get?

"Please, please! Uncle Vernon, I'm sorry!"

"You are nothing but a filthy little brat! How dare you bring this family to shame!"

"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry!"

"You're sorry? Oh you will be when I'm finished with you." A wicked smile grew on his face.

He punctuated each word with a blow, and Harry could feel his eye begin to swell. After several more brutal blows he went into the kitchen to go get some more of whiskey. Harry laid there motionless while he tried to stop the stream of tears coming from his broken eyes. Normally, this was when Harry would awaken from his hell, but not this time. While Harry began to gain control over his emotions he heard the soft voice of a woman. He lifted his bleeding head slowly and saw the beautiful form of his mother. Her red hair cascaded down her back and her eyes that were just like his held anger and pain.

"Look at what you've done to me. Look at what you have done to all of us."

Harry looked around and saw his father, Sirius, and Cedric all standing around his mother. They all had the same fire in their eyes.

"This is all your fault! How could you do this to us Harry? We thought you cared! I came to save you and this is what I get? Death?" Sirius looked truly mad as he screamed at his godson.

"I thought we were friends Harry," Cedric spoke in such a small whisper that Harry could barely hear him.

"Your mother and I gave our lives to save your pathetic one and this is what we get? You killing my best friend and an innocent student? I am ashamed to call you my son," James looked his son dead in the eye and shook his head in shame.

"But, I didn't mean to!" said Harry quickly. "I didn't mean for any of you to die. I'm sorry!

"Why should we forgive you? You are nothing. You mean nothing to us," Lily took James's hand in hers as she spoke.

Sirius, Cedric, Lily, and James had started moving closer and closer to him, pushing Harry back against the wall. They were all yelling at him now so loudly that he couldn't decipher what was being said or who was saying what. Harry had no idea how his uncle couldn't hear what was going on it was so loud. After that everything faded to black and he woke up.

He reached the tower without being spotted and plopped down on the ground next to a telescope. He slipped the map in his pocket in exchange for his prized dagger. He placed his wand, still illuminated, beside him and let out a breath he had no idea he was holding. A sob escaped from him as he brought his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and rocked back and forth in a soothing motion. He took off his glasses and tried to wipe away the tears that had fallen from his pain-filled emerald eyes but as soon as he wiped them, they were replaced by fresh tears.

The black hilt of his dagger had the engraved initials of his father, J. P., and the blade had been shined and sharpened. It looked as if it was brand new. He rolled up the sleeves of his robe and took the dagger in his right hand. He traced each scar left there from his previous episodes with the blade but not putting enough pressure on it to break the skin. He counted a total of thirty-one scars. He found an area of untarnished skin and pressed the blade into the soft skin. He let out a gasp at the relief he felt from the cool blade slicing into his own flesh. He created a crisscross pattern on his left forearm and repeated his ministrations on his right. He soon felt like everything was going to be okay as long as he kept the blood flowing onto his porcelain skin. His vision started to become blurry again but not from tears and his head became light as a feather. He placed the dagger beside his wand and laid his head on the ground. He wrapped his arms around his waist trying to keep himself warm from the cool night air and soon his vision faded to black.